


A Quick Tune Up

by AndreaDTX



Series: What's Your Fantasy? [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Consensual Dubious Consent, M/M, Rough Sex, Top Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 12:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDTX/pseuds/AndreaDTX
Summary: A quicky that combines all of Dean's favorite things.





	A Quick Tune Up

Dean’s bent over the Impala working under the hood. Even if tinkering weren’t his favorite thing to do, she’s developed a slight rattle and that’s not allowed. She works too hard to be neglected and abused.The heat of the bunker’s un-airconditioned garage doesn’t deter him. He stripped down to his black tee, his plaid shirt abandoned across the hood of one of the MoL’s now-antique cars. A small rotating fan labors off to his right, trying in vain to cool the huge space, instead impotently blowing hot air around with random wisps of cool air at the tail end of each rotation. Whitesnake is blasting from his cassette player and he’s humming along as he coaxes a loose bolt back into place.  
He’s so lost in what he’s doing his mind barely has time to recognize Sam’s presence before Sam pins him against the grill of the car, one hand at the back of his neck to keep him bent. Dean has to drop his tools and grip his hands against the engine block.  
“Stay. Just like that,” Sam murmurs, dropping nipping kisses down Dean’s neck. Dean hums and tilts his head to the other side, trying to make more skin available.  
But Sam has moved on, barely taking the time to unhook Dean’s belt or pop the button to his pants before shoving them and his underwear down to mid-thigh. He kicks Dean’s legs apart as far as the constraints of his still partially-fastened jeans will allow.  
Sam starts with two slick fingers, making Dean grunt and strain to allow the intrusion. Just as he’s getting used to it, Sam pulls the fingers out. They’re quickly replaced with the blunt head of Sam’s cock.  
“Wait, Sam…”  
But he doesn’t. He pushes in, shoving his way through the ring of the under-stretched muscle, forcing a strangled cry from Dean. He pushes until he’s all the way in and both he and Dean are gasping for breath.  
Dean’s eyes are watering and he can’t even find his voice to ask Sam to wait. To give him a minute. He nearly jumps when Sam reaches around to grab his cock which is only semi-hard, struggling to catch up to the rapid pace Sam is setting. Sam strokes and tugs, rabbit quick, the friction from his now barely-slicked hand drowning Dean in knife-sharp arousal. When Dean finally thrusts into the touch, panting and whimpering, Sam takes that as his sign to continue.  
He grabs Dean by the hips and starts to punch into him, deep, rapid thrusts that force guttural groans out of Dean. He combines this with his manhandling of Dean’s cock, quickly bullying Dean’s body to the edge. Dean squeezes his eyes closed, focusing on the in and out of Sam’s cock, still on the good side of painful. He can feel the tension in his own body surging, boiling, hot and out of control…  
When the orgasm hits, it’s sharp and overwhelming, stinging through muscles that haven’t had enough time to even warm up before the game is over. Dean collapses against the frame of the car, trying to catch his breath, grunting softly as he spasms through aftershock while Sam pounds through his own orgasm.  
Dean hisses when Sam pulls out, the friction of their impromptu rutting leaving him more than a little sensitive. He hitches his pants back up and turns to look at Sam, who’s looking at him bashful and unsure.  
“Was that how you wanted it?”  
“Fuck yeah,” he tells Sam, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “Couldn’t have done it any better.”  
Sam sighs in relief and his dimples pop. “Good. I was a little worried, you know, ‘cause there wasn’t a whole lot of lead up.”  
“Nah. It was perfect,” Dean says, ruefully wiping drizzles of cum off Baby, who deserves better, with the clean corner an oily rag.  
Sam laughs as he fixes his own pants. Actually, it’s more of a giggle.  
Dean cocks an eyebrow. “What?”  
Sam pauses, but then visibly decides to share. “It’s just, usually when you go at somebody that fast and hard people say ‘oh, I’m going to be bowlegged tomorrow’, but you---“  
“Shut up,” Dean huffs and throws the rag at Sam’s face.


End file.
